The Coming of Darkness
by Squirrel0304
Summary: This is ot a happy tale. Ths is not a tale about kittens and butterflies, and happy cute baby dragons. Nay. This is the tale of a group of exalted Plague dragons witnessing the prophesized return of the darkness which couldn't have shown up at a worse time.


**Author's Note: I found my older-than-dirt FligthRising Fic, so I thought I'd share it here with all you fine wonderful people. **

**Disclaimer: I own nothing.**

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><p><strong>The Coming of Darkness<strong>

**What's in a Name?**

"You're nameless?" The black and molten orange Fae looked down at me with bright crimson eyes. I nodded numbly. "Hmm, that'll have to be changed." He tipped a quill toward his mouth only to sneer as the feather tickled his nose. "A name is an identity, and as is the custom; each unnamed dragon to be exalted by his or her clan is given a name suited to their god, and so you shall be..." he trailed off staring down for several minutes, before his two crimson eyes meeting my four murkier red - a sure sign that one of my parents had not originated in the Plague Lands.

My mother had been a Fae travelling with a small group of other searching for a new copse of tree or cliff on which to begin a new colony when a great storm scattered them all. Broken winged she'd gotten stranded and by luck a clan native to the Wander Contagion had found her and taken her in.

At some point during her stay she and my father- a mirror who after getting injured on a hunt never bothered leave the mismatched family of drakes he'd landed with- had grown attached to one another. How they had wound up falling in love was a mystery. Both had been quiet, but my father had the delicate disposition of a badger- a starving, rabid badger, with a bad tooth ache that is, while my mother had been genuinely nice if not a bit hard to talk to because of her natural monotone manner of talking.

And as the old Fae looked down at me; I couldn't help but recall the bloody eyes of the Matriarch Ridgeback glaring down at me after I'd something wrong. I knew he was looking for something, and I uttered a tiny hiss as my hackles prickled with guilt.

I relaxed when the Fae's gaze softened, his proud crest flushing as he tilting his head. He seemed almost relaxed, and his expression was almost... a smile. No. "Your name shall be Malaria."

I looked down my claws, navy blue and spotted with large silver crystalline scales. How in the world had he come up with Malaria? It made me think of red, and apart from my sort-of-red eyes, I had no red on me. I would have asked about his sudden bought of inspiration, had he not moved on to speak with another hatchling; a Pearlcatcher that had joined us an hour or so before.

At one day old forced to leave his clan, he'd wound up travelling for about four days, picked up by a plague clan and then spent the next three weeks with four other clans before finally being exalted, without so much as a "You're going to do great things," or "We're so proud of you," never mind a simple "goodbye."

He was nameless too, and as the Fae stared him down in the same manner he had me, I could see the Pearlcatcher clutching desperately to the pearl trembling in his foreclaws. "Typhoid," I heard the old Fae announce.

Typhoid waddled over hugging the pearl to his chest. We'd met only a few hours ago, journeying to the Plaguebringer's chosen piece of decrepit monument, and had taken to talking.

"Hello Malaria, I'm Typhoid." He offered a smile that didn't reach his eyes. "Of all the names, why Typhoid? I would have liked something more…pleasant on the ear." He settled down with his pearl still tucked against his chest.

"Hi Typhoid, be glad he didn't name you Mumps."

He held his sickly smile a moment longer, before staring down at the large iridescent ball in his hands. I started as he curled back his lips enough to reveal his molars, before making a loud drawn out mix of sucking and slurping.

Flinching I jerked away as a black glob of something flew from his mouth and splattered against his once pristine pearl. Tendrils of black gloop still hung from his jaws swingling and dribbling onto the pearl and dirt at his feet, as he tentatively raised his eyes.

"Sorry."

Wide eyed I watched as he began to smooth the black mucous across the pearl's surface until the once pretty white with green and pink shimmer was lost.

The other dragons in our party stood motionless nearby, staring at him, with wide eyes, sneers, and looks of disgusted interest. "What are you doing?"

"Adding my name."

"Ugh, okay-"

"It's important," Typhoid shrugged absently, too occupied with making the pearl as ugly as possible.

"Why?"

"I don't know, I just have a feeling…." He trailed off, dedicating his attention solely to the gem he was slowly turning and spinning with nothing but the very tips of his claws.

The Fae Dragon reappeared; perching on a tall jagged stump. The rest of the tree lying nearby was a leafless pile of festering mush, moulds, and mildews. He settled, unconcerned by the lichens, mushrooms, and slimy things beneath his feet.

Carefully folding his wings to his side and wrapping his tail about the stump for balance he looked upon the six of us.

"We're a few miles away from the gathering site where you are to be tested and assessed until the elders determine your future roles based upon you strengths and weaknesses. And now that those of you without names have been given names, we can proceed…." His crimson gaze swept over the Pearlcatcher sitting next to me, still engrossed in his work. "As soon as his Highness decides to join us."

Looking over at Typhoid, like every other dragon was, I caught site of faint smirk curling his lips.


End file.
